


A Tisket, A Tasket, Green Eggs In a Basket

by CrackingLamb



Series: Junkyard Additions: A Series of Holiday Related Stories [5]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Continuing the sequel of Junkyard Dogs, Easter Eggs, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Sexual Content, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:51:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: It's Easter in the Commonwealth, and Nora has a plan for the Castle's kids.





	A Tisket, A Tasket, Green Eggs In a Basket

Hancock cracked open a beer from a cache they'd found buried in the basement of Gwinnet and took a swig. Almost immediately he spit it out and made a face. “Damn, that's foul!”

Nora looked up from her current project – making extenders for her favorite pair of pants to accommodate her growing belly – and eyed him curiously. “What's wrong with it?”

“I dunno, but it tastes like sour shit.”

“Let me see that.” He handed her the bottle and she sniffed it. Hancock's face turned confused as she grinned, delighted. It was vinegar. “Oh, that makes me happy,” she said with satisfaction.

“You are one strange Vaultsicle, you know that?”

“Curie will be thrilled.  So little remains of pre-war microbes.”

He cocked a bare eyebrow at her, but she didn't elaborate further. She was too busy peeling off the label and marking it with one of her precious indelible markers. She twisted his cap back onto the bottle loosely and set it on a high shelf. She felt hands on her hips as she reached, both keeping her balanced and...well...Hancock liked touching her.

“You gonna tell me what's goin' on in that head of yours?” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

“Perhaps,” she managed. “Let's just say I'm happy to know some things were not lost in the war.”

His rough hands slipped under her baggy shirt and caressed her skin. “Can I drag you away from your current craziness in the meantime?”

“What did you have in mind?” she said, humming as his hands roved up over her curved belly to cup her breasts. She didn't need to know what he was thinking, she could feel it well enough.

“I have a few ideas,” he said, tugging her around to face him.

“Right now in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Yup. Shawn is at school and everyone else is out plowing or whatever it is they do out there...”

“Gotta make hay while the sun shines,” she quipped, earning herself a grin. There were still idioms she used automatically that went right over everyone's heads, but Hancock was a clever man, and could figure most of them out for himself. Not to mention over three years of watching her turn the Commonwealth into a sustainable farming region had made many of them make sense all on its own.

“I got some _hay_ to make with you,” he promised, bending his head to kiss her. She let the kiss linger, growing more heated. When he pulled away she smiled at him.

“You sure do know how to sweep a woman off her feet. Maybe not literally though. I must weigh a ton.”

He smirked at her, and before she knew it, he lifted her off the ground and into his arms, hardly straining as her bulk settled into his arms. “Sunshine, you ain't fat. You're pregnant. There's a difference.”

“Tell that to my jeans.”

He set her down next to their bed and began to pull at her various buttons and snaps. “Your jeans can have some time out on the floor, since they're bein' so rude.”

“Oh, John, you're such a goofball,” she giggled as she shimmied her hips to help him pull the offending garment down her legs, balancing a hand on his shoulder as he helped her feet free. Now she stood in just a loose shirt – one of his, actually – draped over her protruding belly. Still on his knees at her feet, Hancock placed a kiss on the curve, his barely there lips warm through the material. She couldn't see him anymore from her angle, but she could imagine the look on his face, seeing her grow large with their baby. She caught it sometimes from across the room. He had always been a solicitous lover, but now he was downright fawning. He never seemed to get enough of her, and he never failed to make sure she was as satisfied as she always had been with him. It made her smile in anticipation.

“You get comfy on that bed,” he ordered, grinning ear to ear. They'd found that a combination of pillows worked to keep her upright enough that she could breathe around the baby without getting heartburn, and yet he could take his time with her without contorting himself. Sometimes she got on top of him, too. She wondered what he had in mind this time.

Once she was settled, she watched him undress, still feeling a thrill in the pit of her stomach to see his body, even with his warped and scarred skin. He crawled over the end of the bed once he was naked, his eyes hungry on her. She welcomed him into her rather awkward embrace, but all he did was kneel between her legs to unbutton her shirt.

“You still got too many clothes on, Sunshine.”

“Why do you want to even see all that?”

“These curves?” he asked, running a hand from breast to belly. “Why wouldn't I?”

“I feel so...”

“Radiant?” he interrupted, pulling apart the edges of the shirt to look her over. Blue veins stood out plainly on her breasts, and her belly was so distended she was starting to get stretch marks. But he loved every bit of it. He loved how much more sensitive her skin was, how responsive she was. He reveled in her soft edges and rounded curves. He even loved when the baby kicked him, which was often now. So she kept her self-critical words behind her lips and just smiled fondly at him.

He kissed his way down her body, never missing a single one of his favorite spots until he could hook his fingers around the band of her underwear, pulling it down her legs, exposing her to his sight and touch. She barely breathed as he spread her open and licked a path against her core, his tongue hot against her. It made her gasp and gasp some more as he pressed two fingers inside her, urging her to climax. She shattered against his mouth, stunned by how fast it had hit her. Before the aftershocks had even faded, he was lining himself up, her legs hitched over his arms.

He didn't pound anymore, wary of hurting her. Or the baby. But he stroked her long and slow and as deep as he could get, filling her so completely that she could barely tell where she ended and he began. With a groan he pulsed inside her, spilling into her with his own release.

It was over practically as soon as it started, but she felt a wave of pleasant fatigue spread through her. Hancock tossed pillows aside and helped her onto her side, spooning himself against her back, his hand splayed across her belly. “You rest,” he whispered. “The General is off duty for the rest of the day.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, not sure if she was agreeing with him or not. Either way, her eyes closed of their own accord and she drifted off for a nap without fighting it.

***

“Look at those two idiots. When are they gonna stop that pussyfootin' and get down to business?” he said later as they sat at one of the picnic tables she'd built. The day had been warm and the fresh earth smell of spring filled the air in the market of the Castle. The sun had just started to set, and she was shoveling her dinner down as fast as she could before the usual evening rounds of talking to her settlers started. She looked over to where Hancock pointed and saw X and Curie sitting together in the last remnant of sunshine, their heads bent close together as they worked with long strips of what looked like corn husks.

“What are they even doing?” she asked around a mouthful of brahmin steak.

“Basket weaving,” Hancock said in mock disgust. “Curie figured out that it's Easter or something.”

“Is it?” Nora opened up the chronometer on her Pip-Boy, and saw that sure enough, it was nearly the second week of April.  It was the full moon too, and she knew that Curie’s calculations were probably correct.  It was Eastertide. “How did time go by so fast?”

“Well, you've been a busy bee, Sunshine,” Hancock said, sitting down next to her with his own plate of brahmin steak and steamed grains. Shaun had already finished his and was off running around with Duncan MacCready and a few other children, playing some form of tag that adults didn't understand.

“I suppose I have,” she mused. “But getting Allie Filmore and the rest settled at the airport was needful.”

“Didn't argue, did I?”

She leaned against him and cracked a grin. “No, you didn't. Hmm, I wonder where I could get enough eggs?”

“What do you need eggs for?”

“To dye.” He gave her a blank look. “I wonder if Daisy would know where to get dye tablets?”

“Ya lost me, Sunshine.”

“I know,” she said soothingly. “It will all make sense soon.”

“I feel like I hear that a lot when you get pre-war notions in your head.”

She grinned. “Dyeing Easter eggs is a long held tradition. Don't ask me where it comes from, though.”

“You mentioned Daisy. Does this mean I'll be taking a road trip back home?”

Nora glanced over her shoulder at him and rubbed the baby. She raised an eyebrow. “You think you're going to just leave me here?”

“Sunshine, you're a very capable woman, a deadly fighter and the uncontested General of the Minutemen. You're also six months pregnant. Your armor doesn't fit, hell, you can barely find pants that fit. You ain't walkin' to Goodneighbor and back. Not on my watch.”

She didn't know if Hancock was aware of the hornet's nest he just kicked, but she glowered at him anyway to inform him. He ignored her and ate his dinner in silence. She finished hers up and took her empty plate back to Sally, who was running the bar.

“Ooh, that look promises retribution,” Sally said with a laugh. Nora just nodded. “Don't be too hard on him, ma'am. I'm sure whatever he did can't be that bad.”

“You're just biased, Sal,” Nora said, allowing a smile to break through. Her barkeep's bubbly disposition and boundless energy tended to be infectious. “Considering how many caps my husband spends here.”

Sally looked abashed. “Well, he is a good customer, ma'am. He just worries, ya know?”

Nora sighed. Sally was right, and so was Hancock. “Yeah, I know he does. And I shouldn't complain, should I?”

“No ma'am, if you don't mind me saying so. Any woman who has a husband look at her the way...uh, I mean...”

Nora laughed and shook her head in bemusement. “You made your point, Sal. Here, let me grab a beer for him, and a Nuka for me.”

“Right away, ma'am.”

Nora paid her caps and went back to the picnic table where Hancock still sat, offering her olive branch with a smile. “Fine, darling husband. I won't go, but you better not linger too long yourself. You'll miss the fun.”

“What fun would that be?” he asked, cracking open the bottle and taking a far more satisfying sip than the one he had earlier.

“Hunting up enough eggs for all the kids,” Nora replied with a grin.

***

It rained the whole time Hancock was gone, but that didn't bother her much. She had plenty to keep her busy indoors. She radioed Blake Abernathy and talked with him about the radstags – of which they had managed to capture two younglings and pen them with their brahmin. The adults hadn't attempted to take back their young, and Blake was confident that in a year's time the pair of two headed deer would be ready to train to the saddle.

“Good work, Blake,” she said through the crackles and static. “Keep me posted.”

“Will do, General.”

She signed off and thought about what the next year would bring. In a year's time her baby would probably be crawling, and she would be worrying about how to babyproof the Castle with its stone stairs and artillery cannon. She looked around the once spartan room she shared with Hancock and noted that all the lower shelves would need to be cleared of anything not fit for small hands.

In the meantime, however, she contented herself with knitting booties that were sadly misshapen and putting together sack like clothes from material sent to her from Hangman's Alley. The weaver there had found a way to make a strong enough yarn from brahmin hair to weave. Nora missed sheep, suddenly. Well, she'd gotten pigs back with the help of Madison Li's new Institute.  Maybe they had sheep DNA stored in their seed bank too.

Night was falling before Hancock was announced at the gate of the Castle. She set aside her sewing projects and went out into the rainy gloom to meet him. Shaun had beaten her to the punch and was telling his father all about his day as they walked from the gate to the wing of the fort set aside for their personal home. Hancock carried a large knapsack with him and Nora felt a thrill in her stomach that he had been successful in the hunt for egg dye.

They greeted each other with a quick kiss and he went to change from his wet clothes to dry while she examined the contents of the bag. Sure enough, Daisy had dye tablets. She'd also sent a stack of cleaned rags that weren't big enough to use for clothes or blankets, but were just right for diapers. Somewhere that crafty old ghoul had even found a packet of precious safety pins. Nora hugged the pins to her chest, feeling sentimental and silly, but also sorrowful that something once taken so easily for granted meant so much to her now.

“She laughed when I told her what I was lookin' for,” Hancock said as he strolled back into the room. “Said she'd had them under her counter for ages, but no one aside from pre-war ghouls knew what they even were.”

“Bless her heart, forever and ever,” Nora replied. “You hungry?”

“Nah, I ate at the Rail. Mags and Chuck sent their hellos.”

“How's Fahr?”

“Holdin' down the fort. I think she's gettin' itchy feet to come visit. Said she wanted a rematch.”

“Hmm, she's just sore because I keep beating her.”

“Never thought I'd meet anyone better at chess than her,” he mused, snagging an arm around her waist and kissing the back of her neck. “It's good for her to lose now and then.  Keeps her from gettin’ a big head about it.”  She laughed. Hancock joined her for a moment, then sighed.

“Tired?”

“A bit.  I ain’t as young as I used to be.”

“Hmph, I’ll believe it when I see it, ghoul husband.”  She grinned to take the sting out of her words and he gave her his lopsided smirk in reply.  She put away the things he’d brought and tucked Shaun into his bed before shutting the huge mechanical door of their quarters and enjoying some quiet time with Hancock before bed.

***

In the morning, Nora was up with the sun and stood with Curie near the once collapsed section of wall that had been turned into a chicken coop.  A line of six children beamed at her in the early light, fresh faces eager to discover what sort of mischief the mighty General had in store for them.

“Okay, children,” Nora announced when she counted all the faces she knew, “each one of you will get a basket here, and I want you to find as many radchicken eggs as you can.  Don’t break them, I have plans for those later on.”

She and Curie watched in amusement as the children chased the chickens brought back from Far Harbor.  Squawks and laughter ensued as they hunted down eggs in the piles of rubble, razorgrain straw and loose feathers.  Hancock, X and MacCready – who had come down from Sanctuary Hills just for the occasion – stood off to the side, observing the proceedings with varying degrees of forbearance on their faces.  Curie laughed and went to stand next to X, slipping her arm around his waist.  Nora and Hancock shared a wry glance.  There was hope yet of getting those two to admit they were in love.

The mad race for eggs was over in just a few minutes and the half dozen children lined up again before Nora with flushed faces and grins, each basket holding at least two or three eggs.  Shaun had nearly overflowed his small basket and Nora grinned at her son.

“That’s quite the haul, sweetie.”

“I know where the shy ones hide theirs.”

“Good on you, kiddo,” Hancock said.  He turned to Nora.  “Now what?”

“Now we have to cook them.  Curie, you got that big pot ready, right?”

“Oui, Madame.”  She gestured to the kids standing in their line.  “Come along, children.  I will show you how to cook them.”

“How long will this take, Mom?” Shaun asked as they crossed from the chicken coop to the large Castle kitchen on the other side of the square. 

“They don’t take very long to cook,” she replied.  “But then they have to cool.”

“And then what?” Duncan MacCready piped up, his short legs pumping to keep up with the bigger children.  Shaun took the boy’s basket before the youngster dropped it.

“Then we’re going to make them into different colors,” Nora said.

“How?” the boy asked, awed.

“You’ll see.”

They reached the kitchen, where many of the Minutemen were eating breakfast and watching the kids as they placed their collected eggs into the huge pot Curie put down on the floor.  It was already filled with water, but each child placed their eggs in it carefully, so as not to risk breaking the fragile shells.  When all the eggs were in the pot, Curie and X hefted it onto the largest burner of the stove and lit it.

“Now they must boil,” Curie announced.

The stove was hot, and it didn’t take long for the water to come to a boil.  Nora watched the time on her Pip-Boy and told the synth doctor when to shut off the heat and begin pulling the eggs from the water to a cold water bath in the huge tub in the sink.  Only two of the eggs cracked during the cooking process, and neither one so badly that it was un-dyeable.  Nora shook her head in bemusement at the tub full of speckled, splotched and greenish eggs.  Certainly they were a far cry from the pure white ones she remembered from before the war.  She wondered how well they would take the dye Daisy had given her, or for that matter, how well 212 year old dye was going to work.

“We need six cups,” she said, thinking that she might as well make making the dye part of the fun.  The kids all ran to find some drinking vessel or other and they ended up with a mismatched collection of coffee cups and drinking glasses in no time flat.  Nora drew out the dye tablets with great ceremony, and dropped a different color in each cup.

“Now what?” asked a little girl with dark brown braids hanging down her shoulders.  Nora recognized her as the daughter of one of Preston’s best lieutenants.  She was nearly the same age as Shaun and the two of them were thick as thieves, as well as being highly competitive at the Castle’s small school.

“Now I will need to measure a small amount of what’s called vinegar into each cup.”  Curie handed her the beer bottle and a spoon, and each child watched raptly as the tablets fizzed and dissolved in the pungent liquid.  She handed each child a spoon and told them to stir until the tablets broke up and dissolved.  Once that was done, Nora poured a half cup of purified water into each cup and told the children to set them up on a cleared table.  Nora and Curie gathered up the cooled eggs and divided them equally among the cornhusk baskets, placing one in front of each child.

“Okay, kids.  Here’s how you do it.  You take an egg,” and she took one from Shaun’s basket to show them, “and place it in the dye.  Move it around with the spoon, make sure it gets totally coated.  The longer you leave your eggs in the dye, the darker the color will be.”  She pulled up the egg from the dye – she’d chosen the blue to demonstrate – and showed them the tealish color the egg had turned.  “There’s no rush, and you can use whatever colors you want for each egg.  They don’t have to be the same.”

She stepped back and gestured for them to get started.  Hancock put a hand on her shoulder and pointed to her comfortable chair, where she sank down into the cushion gratefully to watch the antics of the children as they dyed their first eggs.

“That’s gonna be one unholy mess, you know,” he murmured in her ear.

“I know, but it’s worth it.  Look at the fun they’re having.”

“I can see how much fun _you’re_ having.”

She grinned at him.  “Happy Easter, my love.”

He took her hand in his and kissed it.  “Happy Easter.”


End file.
